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Chapter Three
- Gabriel -
“And then,” she laughed, jerking me out of my momentary respite.
What the hell was she talking about?My mind had wandered, even if it had wandered back to her. I needed the mental break to focus on something besides her wide lips and those dancing eyes.
“Just as we were leaving the shop, a car drove by and splashed water on all of us. We were drenched. The donuts were ruined. So, after waiting in line for half an hour, and a boss that had to have what he had to have, we tossed them in the trash and went right back into the bakery to stand in line again.” Her eyes twinkled as she rested her chin on her palm. “I’m so much happier now that I’m self-employed.”
Self-employed? My brain raced to remember what she told me her occupation was. When had she mentioned it? Had weevertalked about it, or was this my cue to ask?Why couldn’t I remember?
Because being around her brought out the inner animal in me, that’s why. From the moment I watched her walk into the coffee shop, she had my attention. In all the wrong ways, apparently. What kind of ass was I that I couldn’t remember our conversation? She was a pretty woman, with wide brown eyes and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. That damn picture I had didn’t do her justice. She wasn’t the drop-dead gorgeous type, but she was cute, and... I couldn’t explain it. My intention that morning was just to find her, discover who she was. When I caught her staring at me across the room, I shouldn’t have thought anything about it. I was used to that response. Most of the time, I could completely ignore it.
But not with her.
I wanted to know more about this woman, the sister of my enemy. I wanted to know why she spent nearly every morning in the same coffee shop, more than likely ordering the same thing every day. What was it? A chai latte? Pumpkin spice frothy stuff? There were drinks on The Coffee Spot menu I’d never heard of. The barista looked surprised when I ordered a plain black coffee. Suzanne didn’t strike me as the black coffee type.
She was a little awkward and, as I found out when I asked to sit with her, a little shy. She was cautious at first... and nervous. Perhaps that was why I found her so intriguing? She wasn’t my usual sort of girl, but I chose “that sort” of girl for a reason. No real effort was needed on my part. I didn’t do relationships and didn’t invest much time in getting to know my date. I don’t do “coffee.” I needed a good fuck once in a while - a really good one, but Suzanne wasn’t that sort of woman. I knew that within minutes of meeting her. But that wasn’t why I was there, was it? I wasn’t there to really get to know her, just to get to know how I could use her. Her brother Sebastian was becoming a thorn in my side. He was up to something. We’d been polite to each other for years, but something about the way he was acting lately made me leery. I couldn’t put a finger on it and my intel hadn’t turned up anything useful - except that he had a sister. Was she going to be any use to me? Maybe.
Maybe not.
But I could afford to spend some time deciding if she could provide the leverage I would need one day. Maybe Sebastian was just being Sebastian. Or maybe I was paranoid. Exercising an abundance of caution came with the territory. I kept my friends and family close and my enemies even closer. The less they were aware of that, the better. I was plugged into so many people and places, with invisible threads attaching them to me in ways they would never know about. As personable and attractive as she was, Suzanne was still Sebastian St. Valentine’s sister... and that was a problem.
“Tell me what you do again,” I asked, always preferring the direct approach.
Suzanne’s eyebrows rose, and she tilted her head with an amused expression. “You haven’t been paying attention.”
Sometimes, the truth is brutal, but I only knew how to be myself. Despite my reputation as a womanizer, I really wasn’t. I treated women well and with respect, but very few caught my interest the way Suzanne had. Apparently, I was too busy thinking with my dick to listen to what she had to say. I had to admit my failure and move on. It’s what any good businessman does.
“I apologize for that.” My attention again lingered on the soft curves of her mouth. “The truth is, I’m having a hard time concentrating around you.”
She laughed. Not a giggle like she had earlier. Not a flirtatious twitter. A deep throaty laugh that erupted with charm and authenticity. A joyful sound I barely recognized. There wasn’t much joy like that in my world.
“And suddenly I’m a comedian?” I drawled as I studied her.
“Do you get a lot of girls with that line?”
I leaned forward. “No. I don’t need cheesy lines to get the women I want.”
She leaned forward as well. “So, you admit. That’s a cheesy line.” Merriment twinkled in her eyes.
Fuck, she was cute. “It’s not cheesy if it works.” I grasped her hand and gently grazed her knuckles with my lips. “Did it work?”
I watched her throat move as she swallowed before lowering her eyes. One minute she was bright and bubbly, full of laughter and smiles, and the next, her eyes were downcast, and her shyness appeared.
My dick surged forward.What the fuck?
“I’ll ask you again, Suzanne. Did my cheesy line work?”
“No,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not as well as kissing my hand did.”
I couldn’t hold back my groan of desire because never in my fucking life had I been turned on so hard I felt the urge to growl about it.
I’d already compromised my purpose for being there. Our meeting had gone well beyond a chat in a coffee shop. Suzanne and I had been talking for almost two hours. I told myself several times to get a grip, make an excuse, and leave. But then one of us, her or me, it didn’t matter who, would bring up another subject, and we were lost in conversation again, even though apparently, I had a hard fucking time paying attention. I must have lost focus when she was discussing what she did for a living. I had caught myself several times watching the way her mouth moved as she spoke, or how her nose crinkled when she laughed, or how her brow furrowed when our conversation turned to a more serious subject. She wore little makeup, not even enough to hide the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were a smoky brown with flecks of gold in them.
And those lips... wide, full lips that perfectly suited the shape of her face. My dick twitched at the thought of those lips sliding up and down its engorged length.Holy fuck. I’ve been with gorgeous fucking women before, but not one of them had made my dick ache from the moment I met her.
And she had no fucking clue, did she? She couldn’t have. If she did, she’d run.
